


Over My Head

by omgbellamy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Denial, End of the World, Episode: s04e03 The Four Horsemen, F/M, Feelings, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Lists, Love, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Relationships, Saving the World, grounders, handnuzzle, not so platonic anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9789353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbellamy/pseuds/omgbellamy
Summary: my attempt at 4x03 and some added stuff I would've liked to see. Basically, Bellamy comforts Clarke and writes her name on the list. They talk and find comfort in each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm back with another bellarke fic! Their scenes in 4x03 emotionally destroyed me and I can't believe how beautiful they were. I love the depth to their relationship so much and how they mean everything and more to each other. The title is based 'Over My Head' by the Fray, which is literally bellarke in this episode.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

They arrive back at Arcadia. Nobody says a word as they come through the gate, though the many curious faces tell them otherwise. They still don't know the extent of their problem. The extent to which they are going to decide who lives and who dies. 

They check in to make sure everything's okay first. Clarke greets Raven who gives her a sour look as she passes by. Raven was right again and Clarke wishes she wasn't. They had a possible salvation, a chance to save everyone or more than before and it was a bust. Clarke wishes she wasn't surprised, but the shitty hand of cards that the Earth has dealt them time and time again speaks for itself.

“I can't believe this is happening,” Clarke sighs as she and Bellamy enter their shared room. “Another point for hope and its a god-damn bust.”

Bellamy stops after shutting the door, looking at Clarke. As always, he remains calm and collected until they're in private. It's something she noticed he's mastered since learning of the end of the world. She admires his courage and his ability to form a facade in the most appropriate times. He's resilient, she thinks to herself.

“It was a long shot, anyway,” Bellamy says, “I mean, it did come from Jaha.” 

The corner of Clarke's lips lift up at that. He's not wrong; Jaha isn't the most trustworthy person to their people.

“Yeah, but...” she sighs again.

“What?”

“I just wanted something good. Someone to tell me something good. After Luna today, the coming of the radiation sickness and now this...I just don't know any more.”

Bellamy doesn't say anything to that. He doesn't know what he can say. As leaders, they're burned with the burden of trying to save everyone. He doesn't regret his decision to save the slaves but he can't help in thinking that maybe if he didn't they would have a viable option to save everyone.

Clarke sits down at the desk. A clean piece of paper and a pen is sitting on her desk, due to Raven, she predicts. They'd been having the discussion for a few days now about making the list and Clarke had avoided it as much as she could. She didn't want to play God any more. Raven had said it herself that she was an expert at deciding who lives and who dies. But so was Bellamy. Bellamy was much a part of this as she was since he'd put his hand over hers in Mount Weather and pulled the lever with her. They'd both been playing God ever since then, even when they didn't want to.

“It looks like we're gonna have to make that list now,” Bellamy says. 

“We?” Clarke asks.

“Yeah. I'm not letting you do this alone.” This is partly my fault, anyway.

Clarke sighs. “Thanks.”

They start discussing the names of their people and begin adding to the list those who are important to them and those who are useful to the fate of the human race on the ship: Abby, Kane, Monty, Raven, Miller....

Clarke stops herself after writing the delinquents names. She hesitates on who to add next. Jasper? Luna, if she lives? Octavia? Murphy? 

She flings the pen down on the desk with anger. She can't believe this is happening again. Another god-damn obstacle to beat. Only this time there's no savior and they won't 'rise from the ashes', as Jaha so eloquently put it. Or it doesn't seem so.

“Hey,” Bellamy says softly from the couch.

Clarke looks up.

“Take it easy,” he says. “We have time.”

“Not much,” Clarke retorts.

It's close to three hours later when Clarke gets near to the end of the list. It's one of the hardest things she's ever had to do in her short life. Killing those in Mount Weather was hard but she had a motive to save her people. This time, the motive is to save and kill her people. There is no way out of this now, Clarke realizes. That knowledge settles a deep, panicky feeling in her stomach knowing that now she really does feel like Wanheda again.

She hasn't noticed him yet.

Clarke looks up to the couch and sees Bellamy.

He's tucked on his side, still fully-clothed other than his signature jacket, legs stretched out across the expanse of the couch. Clarke is amused to find he still wears his holster and has his weapon tucked into his side, even in the space of their room. But its not that which holds her attention. It's just Bellamy.

He looks so soft in his sleep, younger than his modest age of twenty four. He doesn't look as if he's been hardened by the life or death decisions he's had to make to survive, doesn't look as if he's plagued and haunted by the lives he's taken. He just looks like Bellamy. She smiles in spite of herself. And it does everything to Clarke, makes her want to cry because she wants him more than anything to live. He has so much to live for and after all he's been through, he deserves that. He deserves a chance to be happy. 

She feels like she's breaking, but she plucks up the courage to do it anyway. She picks up the pen and at number ninety nine she writes his name in her squiggly cursive scribe. Bellamy Blake. Number ninety-nine.

Now that leaves one more...a hundred.

Clarke tries not to laugh at how ironic that is. They came down to Earth as a hundred and now they were going to end it with the same amount. It was some cruel twist of fate on the Earth's part, Clarke thought.

She sighs, hesitating with the pen in her hand. She puts it down, unable to write her name down. She can't do it. After all she's done. She can't be that selfish and she won't, not when her people's lives are at stake. Not when she's the one who brought them back the radiation.  
She chokes up, unable to hold back the small whimper that comes out of her mouth. She tries to remain quiet so she doesn't wake him. But she can't hold it back, as her whimpers get louder.

She hears a sigh then. It's Bellamy's sleepy sigh. She whips her head around to meet him, his eyes concerned as he begins to sit up on the couch.

“Bellamy I'm sorry, I-”, she stutters out.

“If I'm on that list, you're on that list,” he says matter of factly. As if it is that easy. It's like he's inside her brain. He knows her that well. 

“Bellamy I can't,” she says in her most broken, soft voice. She is only ever this vulnerable with him. She hates the fact that she's breaking down. She doesn't feel like she has the right to, but she knows she needs to.

“Write it down,” he pleads, still sounding assertive. “Or I will.” She knows that the threat isn't an exaggeration. He'll do it. That's the kind of person Bellamy is. His devotion to others is something that he can never let go of, and this is one of these times. They'd bickered back and forth about it for the past few days since Raven mentioned the list. He'd said, “I won't be on there,” and she'd shout back, “Yes you will,” with such determination, because he would be. It was a huge part of their relationship, saving the other. They were partners and partners who Clarke herself knew would do any damn thing just to see the other finally get the chance to live.

“No,” Clarke says quietly. She sounds weak and defeated and Bellamy sees that. He doesn't want to push her, but in this case, he has to let her know she's worth it. She deserves to live a long and good life with all of the people she's saved. She deserves to be with her mom and Kane and their friends. She deserves to fall in love again and she deserves to be happy.

“Clarke,” he says again, soft. “Please. You have to.”

“Bellamy,” she counters firmly, “I can't. I just can't.”

He says her name again, and she breaks.

“I can't!” she whisper-shouts. “Bellamy, I can't! Somebody else deserves that space more than me.”

“Are you kidding?” Bellamy asks.

“Bellamy,” she sighs.

“No, Clarke. That isn't right. Yeah, our people all deserve a chance to live, but so do you! After all you've been through on this god damn planet, after all you've done to save our people. Maybe we didn't always agree on it, but God, you saved us. You saved us from the City of Light, Clarke, you've earned your forgiveness. You need to live. Your mom needs you and our people need you.”

She thinks back to their angst-filled time just after the massacre. She couldn't come back to Arcadia with him and that had made him snap. They'd laid all of their feelings out on the table after that and eventually found their way back. But she still couldn't justify it. Maybe she had technically, 'saved' their people from the City of Light, but the latter was no better. Burn to death due to the effects of radiation in two months? What kind of cruel sick joke was that? 

“And what about you?” Clarke shoots back. “ Our people need you, Octavia needs you! Remember what you said to me in Mount Weather? Together. We're in this together, Bellamy, until the end. We saved them from radiation, we did. Not just me. When I pulled the lever to destroy the City of Light...I thought of you. I thought of Mount Weather and how selfless you were when you said “together” and pulled that lever with me. You gave me that strength, Bellamy and I need that before I even consider trying to live. And I'll need you – I need you. And so do our people. .”

Bellamy isn't usually one for words, Clarke knows. He looks taken aback by her and she's still irate at that. As if he's always been so shocked that someone – anyone – cares about him. She cares about him almost more than any of their people. He means everything and more to her and she doesn't know else she convey it. She doesn't deserve to live, she thinks, but maybe with Bellamy by her side, she can feel that worth again. 

“So then you'll have me,” he simply says. “If I have you.”

She just stares at him.

He picks up the pen and writes her name in block capitals on the same line as the number a hundred. He looks at her intensely the whole time he does it and Clarke's breath catches. He's grateful she doesn't try to stop him. She is tired of fighting him on this anyway.

They stand in silence for a while. She notices his close proximity as she glances up at him. It shouldn't affect her, but it does. Her heart palpitates as she looks at him. His brown eyes are soft and so open that it makes her want to burst. They're only able to be like this with each other and nobody else and to Clarke, that is a staggering realization. She's had her past relationships, she was in love and she fell deeply but its an entirely different wavelength that she is on with Bellamy.

“What now?” she asks him.

He thinks back to a few days ago in Polis when he'd asked her the same question and her response was, “Now, we survive.” 

“We keep the list,” he says. “Keep it safe and locked away and hope we find a solution until then.”

“You still have hope that we can do that?” she asks.

“Are we still breathing?” he quips. Clarke scoffs at that, almost chuckles despite the contrast of her tear-stained face. He really is the one one who can do that for her.

For now, She thinks, For now we're living, we're breathing and we have each other.

Bellamy reaches up to put a hand on her shoulder. He figures she needs comfort in this hard time so he supplies it. He notices then way she leans into his touch, and he's surprised by it. The frown lines from her forehead disappear and a contented sigh escapes from her lips. Her eyes are closed in contentment. 

He watches her for a moment. She too looks her age in those moment. She doesn't look like the Princess Clarke he knew when he first landed, or Mount Weather Clarke, or Polis Clarke, but just Clarke Griffin, a misunderstood eighteen year old with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Together, he thinks, they share that weight. They break it in half and hold either part of it on their shoulders because they need that. They've always shared the burden of being responsible for the lives of others ever since they took to the challenge of co-leading the delinquents.

His thoughts are interrupted by Clarke's tiny hand coming up on his shoulder. She covers her small hand with her own and squeezes his in return. But it doesn't stop. She leans her head down onto their joined hands and nuzzles his hand. Bellamy is once again taken aback by the reckoning force that is Clarke Griffin and how unpredictable she can be.

He feels the electric current run through him, a prominent reminder of the power and warmth that touch has. He gulps, knowing this moment between them is fleeting and that tomorrow they will have to go out and face the challenges of the world again.

He goes to take his hand of his shoulder and she lets him go reluctantly. A grateful smile makes its way onto her lips and she silently thanks him. 

“Get some sleep,” Bellamy tells her. She gives him a small nod and he smiles back in return. He begins to walk away and she watches him the whole time.

She doesn't want him to go. The thought crosses her mind and sends a range of thoughts into her head. It's conflicting and overwhelming but she lets it in. She's pushed her feelings away too much recently and with their limited time left, she thinks now is the time she starts being fully honest with herself. 

He gets to the foot of the doorway before she stops him.

“Bellamy,” she says urgently.

He turns his head, clearly surprised by her choosing to call out to him.

“Yeah?”

“Stay. Please. If you want to. You don't have to leave because of me. This is as of much my room as it is yours.”

They share a room but rarely sleep at the time times or at all. Bellamy has been on guard training helping keep everyone on task and doing night shifts looking out for potential Grounder threats on guard duty. Her schedule runs more in the day time, being in charge of rationing having daily Council meetings where everyone marks out their progress. They never end up sleeping at the same time despite the time they spend together. Part of Clarke thinks they'd been avoiding it and the sheer intimacy of it and finding excuses to avoid each other in the evening. Clarke hadn't shared a room with anyone before except her parents on the Ark and Lexa during their intimate moments in Polis. 

But Bellamy was different. Although they had their unspoken intimacy, sleeping together or near each other would be crossing the line a bit. Clarke was scared to cross that line because she and Bellamy had never been that explicitly close before. Sleeping next to each other would provide comfort, yes, but it could also stir up an array of mixed feelings that in a time like this is not practical.

That's why in asking that, Clarke knows she is fighting fire with fire. Distancing herself keeps her from being the subject of Bellamy's harm but nowadays she finds she can't do that. She's drawn to him like a magnet and he to her. They just can't keep away from each other.

She knows it's even more real when Bellamy turns his body back around, smiles at Clarke, shutting the door to their room and says, “Sure. I'll stay.”

They sleep well that night, pressed together in the makeshift bed, arms and legs tangled together.


End file.
